Reavers (Book 3) (15 page)

“Professor,” a meek voice called out.

She had taken just a little longer than he had predicted.  He had to suppress a chuckle as he forced his face to a neutral expression.

“I’ve told you before, it’s Brent.”

“I’m sorry, Prof . . . Brent.”  The girl blushed as she moved closer to him.  Quickly glancing around, she lowered her voice to a whisper.  “What were you two talking about?”

“If you must know, we were talking about you.”

“Me?” the girl choked out.

“Yes.  It appears he has an interest in my lectures.  I mentioned in passing the fact I was allowing you to record my lectures.  He was very interested in meeting with you to discuss the matter.”

“Really?” she asked in a buoyant tone.

“Naturally, I can’t allow you to just give them to him,” Brent said, rubbing his chin as in thought.  “If the other students knew of our arrangement, I’d either have to allow everyone to record my every movement or end our current agreement.”

The girl was crestfallen.  It was all he could do to maintain his composure.  Cain himself would be proud of him.  He had the two of them practically eating out of his hand.

“I’ll tell you what,” Brent said, trying not to overact the part.  “Invite the good professor to watch the recordings at your house
privately
.  You two can call it tutoring or something like that.  That way he can see them without giving away our little secret.  How’s that sound?”

The girl nearly floated off the floor with delight.  Forgetting herself, she quickly hugged him tightly.  Her strength was overwhelming, easily knocking the wind out of him.

“I’m
so
sorry,” she said desperately as she jumped back.

“No worries,” he said quickly as he discreetly took in a deep breath.  “Just don’t let my wife find out.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle as the girl stared at him, clearly not understanding.  With a shrug, Brent turned to leave.  Despite the fact his back was turned on the girl, he could feel her emotions clearly.  Once again walking toward the exit, the suppressed grin emerged.  Not a bad day’s work.  Not only had he put an end to Leland’s pranks, he had laid the groundwork for a charming little romance.

Truth be told, their mutual, unrequited love had been annoying at first.  It had been hard for Brent to concentrate on his lecture with the intensity of their feelings in the background.  After some digging he had found there was no legal precedent against such a pairing, so there was no harm in his meddling.  Today had been the culmination of weeks of planning, and it had gone off without a hitch.  Well, almost.  Cassandra was going to kill him when he got home.

Cassandra paced back and forth anxiously.  She had been working all day to put the house in order for his arrival, and now he had the nerve to be late - again.  She had been running the whole thing through her mind over and over.  He’d come home exhausted after another long day.  They’d enjoy a pleasant meal while they talked about their mutual days.  After that she would suggest they would retire to their room and she would finally confess her secret.

For months she had been dreading this day, but she was out of time.  It wouldn’t be long until he figured it out for himself.  A sudden tapping on the front door demanded her attention.  As she approached the door she tried to calm herself down.  Her mind was racing with a single question.  How would he react?  Taking a deep breath, she forced out any emotions that would give her away.

“Welcome home,” Cassandra said warmly as she opened the door.

“This mansion is more of a prison than a home,” Rupert said grumpily.

She had to blink.  Standing on the front walkway was her mother and father.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a panic.

“Has spending so much time with a norm dulled your memory?” Rupert asked.

“Dear!” Abigail reprimanded as she thrust her elbow into his ribs.  “It’s your brother’s birthday today,” her mother said diplomatically.

“I know that,” Cassandra said angrily.  “Didn’t he get the gift I sent?”

“I did,” Martin said as he poked out from behind his parents.

She could only stare in a confused stupor.  Her entire family had come to visit at the most horrible of times imaginable.  The universe had to be against her.  If only Martin had been born three minutes later they would be showing up tomorrow.

“Well are you going to invite us in, or do we have to stand here all night?” Rupert asked.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Cassandra asked as she let them in, “but what are all of you doing here?”

“It was your father’s idea,” Abigail said warmly.  “The four of us haven’t been together since you left for the academy.  He thought that would be the best birthday present of all.”

“Forgot to get him something, didn’t you?” Cassandra asked Rupert.

The way he shifted uncomfortably answered her question.  Martin laughed openly.  Their timing was horrible, but she had to admit it was nice seeing them all again.

“Whatever his reasons, it’s good to see you again sis,” her brother said with a smile.

“You are looking good.  Still working on the ranch?” she asked.

“Not here, dear,” Abigail said before Martin could answer.  “I’m sure there is some place much nicer where we can all get reacquainted.”

“Where are my manners?”  Cassandra gestured for them to follow.  “This way.”

The house was too large.  That was all there was to it.  Why anyone would need four living rooms was beyond her.  Guiding her family to the nearest, she took a seat on a chair she wasn’t sure had ever been used.

“How many people live here?” Martin asked, studying the high ceilings.

“You haven’t seen your sister in all this time, and that’s all you can ask about?” Abigail asked.

“I seem to remember you and dad asking the same question the first time you came to visit,” Cassandra said with a chuckle.

“Speaking of those slaves of yours,” Rupert said as he fussed over the elaborate chair he had chosen, “how about they whip us up something?”

“Slaves?” Martin asked in horror.

“Don’t listen to him,” Cassandra said in annoyance.  “The university has a few of the students work here.  Helps them pay the bills.  In any case, I gave them all the night off.”

“Well, don’t go to any trouble on our account,” Abigail said with a smile.  “This should be a pleasant get together, not an imposition.”

Before anyone could comment, Martin’s stomach growled.

“Sorry about that,” he said, clearly embarrassed.  “One of the pens broke, and I had to skip lunch rounding up the strays.”

“Let me see what we have,” Cassandra said as she rose out of the chair.

She headed to the kitchen to see if there was anything she could offer them.  She had only counted on a meal for two.  There wasn’t much ready.  As she rummaged through the sparse offerings, a gentle tone rang through the kitchen.  Someone was knocking on the front door.  Brent had finally made it home.  Quickly putting things back, she rushed to the door.  As she reached it, she once again took a deep breath as she tried to steady herself.

“Welcome home,” Cassandra repeated with equal warmth.

“Wow!” an oddly familiar voice said excitedly.  “Talk about hospitality.  Now ma’am, if I could have only a moment of your time, I have a fabulous product that will make your life ten times easier.”

She couldn’t believe her luck.  Some random stranger had picked now of all times to hawk his wares.  Without a word she started to shut the door.  Annoyingly the man had already moved his foot in the way.

“See?” the man said with a wide grin.  “I told you she wouldn’t recognize me.”

“Recognize you?” Cassandra asked as she tried to push his foot out of the door’s path.  “Who are you?”

“Maybe this will help your memory, Sunburn Sandra.”

The man took a deep breath and puffed out his cheeks.

“
Cain
?” Cassandra asked in disbelief.  “But . . . but . . .”

“Blame marketing,” Cain said as he pushed his way in against the stunned girl.  “They say the future head of a corporation needs to be in perfect physical condition.  You wouldn’t believe what I had to go through to get in shape.”

“Sorry for the intrusion,” Angela said gently as she shook Cassandra.

“What are you two doing here?” she asked exasperatedly.

“Is it a crime to visit with old friends?” he asked, trying to sound innocent.

“Everything you do
should
be a crime,” Cassandra said with a sigh.

“She has a point dear,” Angela said with a wicked smile.

“I’m outnumbered!” Cain said as he mockingly threw up his hands.

“Is everything alright?” Abigail called out.

“You have guests over?” Cain asked, already heading toward the voice.

“Apparently so.”  Cassandra sighed, resigned to her fate.  “And they keep multiplying.”

“Sounds like a party!  Hope there are some finger foods.  Can’t have a real party without that.”

Angela bowed apologetically as she followed after Cain.

“Some of the slaves come back on their own?” Rupert asked Cassandra as he eyed the two newcomers.

“Yes, master!” Cain shouted.  “Would you like a foot massage?”

Rupert stared vacuously at him as Angela quietly socked his shoulder.

“Behave yourself!” Angela said in an angry tone.

“You two sound like mom and dad,” Martin said before bursting into laughter.

“I never noticed, but you know - you’re right,” Cassandra said as she took a seat.  “You two always did sound like an old married couple, right from the start.”

“We did not!” Angela said indignantly as she pulled Cain down to the seat next to her.

“If you say so,” Cassandra said with a smirk.  “Even Dante noticed.”

“Noticed what dear?” Abigail asked.  “And who is this Dante person, another friend from the academy?”

“Just what we need,” Rupert grumbled.  “More rifle-carrying idiots.”

Both Angela and Cain turned to look at Rupert - Cain with a wide grin and Angela with a murderous scowl.

“He noticed their constant fighting,” Cassandra said, attempting to defuse the showdown.  “Angela and Cain have picked on one another since the first time they met.”

“And Dante was no rifle-carrying idiot,” Angela said coldly.

“Definitely not,” Cain said with a growing grin.  “That was my job!  Among
other
things.”

“What kind of other things?” Rupert asked.

“Well, up until I walked in this room I firmly believed I was employed as the largest pain in Cassandra’s side.  Apparently, someone filled the position while I was away.”

Rupert balled a fist as Cain calmly smiled like a blissful idiot.

“Now that’s impressive,” Martin said leaning back in his chair.  “Of all the people I’ve ever met, you’re the second who can make dad openly angry.”

“The second?” Cain asked sounding genuinely disappointed.  “Today just isn’t my day.”

“Speaking of the
little
irritant, where is he?” Rupert asked Cassandra, ignoring Cain.

“He’s running late, I’m afraid,” she said with a long sigh.

“Brent?” Angela asked with obvious surprise.  “Late?”

“I guess anything really is possible,” Cain said shaking his head.

“I’m sure he’ll be here any minute now.  The university must . . .”

The door tone interrupted Cassandra.  Slowly she got up and headed toward the door.  As she walked along she wondered who else might drop by.  As she entered the foyer she found Octavia already at the door.  She couldn’t believe her eyes.  Octavia was bowing to the figure in the doorway, and he wasn’t Brent.

Cassandra couldn’t explain why, but her first impulse was to run, run away as quickly as possible without looking back.  The figure in the doorway was a tall man with an average appearance.  However, there was something else to him, something Cassandra couldn’t put her finger on.  Something
wrong
.  The man folded his arms in front of his chest and bowed.  Cassandra instantly recognized the bow as the one used by the Slasher Shards.  Somehow this random man knew the bow of the tripods.  After the man returned to an upright position, his head locked on her.  His deep-set eyes burned into Cassandra as he studied her.  A bitter cold shiver ran down her spine.  A slight tugging on her arm broke her from the man’s despicable gaze.

“Is Brent home?” Octavia asked as she released Cassandra’s sleeve.

“Not yet, I’m afraid.  Who is your guest?”

“Call me Henry,” the man said.

Cassandra had to jump back.  In the moment she had taken her eyes off of him, he had crossed the foyer and was standing an arm’s length away.

“I take it you know Octavia and my husband,” she said, trying to force calm into her voice.  “Do you work with Brent?  At the university?”